Hong Dou’s return startled Fu Song: “Sister Hong Dou, why have you come again?”

Hong Dou unceremoniously flicked Fu Song’s forehead: “Either call me Hong Dou or call me Sister—if you call me Sister Hong Dou again, I’ll throw you out!”

Fu Song shrank his neck, nearly frightened to tears: “Sister Hong Dou, what brings you here?”

“Has the young master woken up?”

“Just now.” Fu Song stole a glance at the food box Hong Dou carried, his reply trembling with fear.

“Here, our miss prepared Immortal Porridge for the young master. Quickly take it in and have your young master drink it while it’s hot.” Under Hong Dou’s intimidating authority, Fu Song steeled himself and carried the porridge inside.

“What is this?” The strange smell caught Luo Chen’s attention.

Having just broken his fever, his lips were dry and cracked, though his spirits were still decent.

Fu Song answered: “Hong Dou brought it. She said Cousin Miss personally prepared this Immortal Porridge and asked you to drink it while it’s hot.”

“Take it out.” Luo Chen said with a cold expression.

Fu Song efficiently picked up the tray and headed outside.

He knew the young master wouldn’t drink it—porridge made by Cousin Miss was surely more terrifying than poison.

Seeing the young servant not even attempt to persuade him, Luo Chen’s expression darkened slightly as he called out: “Wait.”

Fu Song looked at Luo Chen questioningly.

“Why is it called Immortal Porridge?”

“This humble one doesn’t know either—that’s what Hong Dou called it.”

Luo Chen glanced at the celadon bowl in Fu Song’s hands with a nonchalant tone: “Bring it here so I can see.”

Fu Song thought that made sense—with such a strange porridge name, it was worth seeing.

“Young master, please look.” Fu Song carefully removed the bowl’s lid.

A pungent, sour smell rushed straight to his nose.

Luo Chen instinctively wrinkled his brow, but staring at that bowl of white porridge, he felt it was just as he’d expected.

Now he believed it was personally prepared by Luo Sheng—after all, with such an awful smell, ordinary servants couldn’t have produced it.

Seeing Luo Chen’s expression turn unpleasant, Fu Song quickly said: “This humble one will take the porridge out immediately.”

Watching Fu Song go to pick up the tray, Luo Chen called him back again and said with a stiff face: “Bring it here so I can taste it.”

Hearing this, Fu Song felt terribly distressed and hurriedly said: “Hong Dou has already left—you needn’t worry about Cousin Miss knowing you didn’t drink it and coming to cause trouble. Young master, you shouldn’t torment yourself so.”

“I’m afraid of her causing trouble?” Luo Chen raised his brows, his expression darkening further.

“Then this humble one will take the porridge out.”

“I want to taste just how undrinkable it is.” Luo Chen, seeing the young servant was too obtuse, said with barely restrained patience.

Fu Song was taken aback and handed over the porridge, completely puzzled.

Luo Chen tasted a mouthful and cursed it as undrinkable, then tasted another mouthful and cursed again that it was undrinkable.

Fu Song kindly reminded him: “Young master, if you taste any more, you’ll have finished it all—”

“Get out.” Luo Chen said in embarrassed anger.

He’d never drunk such undrinkable porridge—was being curious not allowed?

That night, having broken his fever and perspired, Luo Chen slept much more peacefully. When he opened his eyes, it was already daylight.

Old Madam Sheng and others came to visit one after another.

Touching Luo Chen’s forehead, Old Madam Sheng looked gratified: “It’s good that the fever broke. This time it’s all thanks to Physician Wang.”

Thinking to ease relations between the siblings, the old madam added: “Chen’er, during your illness, your elder sister was very concerned. The fever-reducing pills prepared by Physician Wang were administered to you by your elder sister herself.”

Regarding Luo Sheng going out to buy medicine, the Grand Madam hadn’t mentioned it to Old Madam Sheng—after all, her daughter following someone wasn’t very honorable.

At this moment in Old Madam Sheng’s heart, she already regarded Physician Wang as half a divine physician.

He couldn’t be a complete divine physician—with the contemporary divine physician Li Fanghai present, no other physician in the world deserved that title.

That man was truly a living immortal who could restore the dead and regenerate white bones.

Hearing Old Madam Sheng’s words, Luo Chen couldn’t help thinking of last night’s bowl of terribly-flavored Immortal Porridge.

Had Luo Sheng reformed?

While he was pondering this, Luo Sheng entered with Hong Dou.

After greeting Old Madam Sheng, Luo Sheng examined Luo Chen a few times and asked: “Have you had breakfast?”

Luo Chen turned his face away and said lightly: “I just took medicine.”

Luo Sheng smiled slightly: “That’s perfect—I made you a bowl of porridge.”

The corner of Luo Chen’s mouth twitched as he said coldly: “I don’t want to drink it.”

That bowl of porridge he drank yesterday wasn’t to give Luo Sheng face—it was purely out of curiosity.

“Didn’t you drink what was sent last night?” Luo Sheng asked.

“Too undrinkable.”

Seeing the atmosphere growing tense, Old Madam Sheng coughed and asked: “Sheng’er can make porridge?”

“Mm.” Luo Sheng answered concisely, then casually asked, “Has Grandmother had breakfast?”

Old Madam Sheng felt suffocated.

This question was very difficult to answer.

Of course she’d had breakfast, but her granddaughter had finally stopped going out to cause trouble and was instead staying home making porridge—shouldn’t she encourage this?

Quickly weighing the pros and cons, Old Madam Sheng smiled: “Not yet.”

Luo Sheng glanced at Luo Chen with his stiff expression and curved her lips: “If Grandmother doesn’t mind, would you like to try some?”

The corner of Luo Chen’s lips trembled.

Old Madam Sheng was just about to steel herself to agree when the indignant youth preemptively said: “How could I let Grandmother drink porridge I don’t want to drink?”

Old Madam Sheng relaxed.

“Bring it here.” Luo Chen assumed an appearance of sacrificing himself for his grandmother.

Old Madam Sheng was deeply moved, thinking to herself that her grandson was indeed filial—her years of doting on him hadn’t been in vain.

Luo Sheng nodded at Hong Dou.

Hong Dou efficiently removed a bowl of porridge from the food box and handed it to the young servant Fu Song.

The cool-toned celadon bowl held white porridge with a layer of rice oil floating on top. Bean-sized pieces of meat mixed with bamboo shoots, mushrooms, pine nuts and other ingredients, weaving together into a faint, mouth-watering fragrance.

Looking at this bowl of meat porridge, Fu Song couldn’t help but widen his eyes.

This was completely different from yesterday’s bowl of porridge!

Luo Chen cleared his throat lightly to remind Fu Song.

Fu Song came to his senses and presented the porridge before Luo Chen.

Luo Chen frowned and took a sip, his expression immediately freezing.

Though Old Madam Sheng was advanced in years, her teeth were still good, and her greatest pleasure in life was eating. With her many years of eating experience, she could tell at a glance the extraordinariness hidden beneath this seemingly ordinary meat porridge. Seeing Luo Chen’s expression, she couldn’t help asking: “How is it?”

Having been poisoned by a bowl of porridge last night and force-fed another bowl of medicine this morning, Luo Chen now had his taste buds washed over by the tender rice grains mixed with meat fragrance, and he nearly wanted to sigh deeply.

Truly fragrant!

“Barely palatable.” After Luo Chen spoke, he ate the porridge elegantly, but no matter how refined, it couldn’t hide his continuous spoonfuls—the small celadon bowl quickly showed its bottom.

It’s gone already?

Luo Chen looked at the empty bowl, extremely embarrassed.

Had he been possessed just now? Why had he unknowingly eaten it all?

Old Madam Sheng looked at the porridge bowl scraped completely clean and for the first time questioned her grandson: her grandson just now hadn’t stopped her from eating the porridge out of filial piety, but because the meat porridge was delicious and he wanted to keep it all for himself…

“It seems younger brother found it palatable. Then I’ll have Hong Dou bring you more porridge at lunch.” Luo Sheng rose, not showing any mocking expression despite Luo Chen eating the porridge completely clean.

For a child of twelve or thirteen saying things contrary to their heart, she naturally had no need to grab onto it and embarrass them.

“No need—Fu Song will fetch food from the main kitchen.”

A cough sounded as Old Madam Sheng smiled: “Then at lunch, Sheng’er can have Hong Dou deliver a bowl of porridge to Funing Hall. Cough, cough, Grandmother is old and her teeth aren’t good—eating other things is troublesome.”

Luo Chen: “…” How did he remember that Grandmother loved eating tendon?